


Straight Men Made Gay

by TabbyCat33098



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Closets, Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Masturbation, Room of Requirement, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 04:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TabbyCat33098/pseuds/TabbyCat33098
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Draco like each other, but neither one knows. So Pansy and Ginny scheme to get them together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is actually a bit of a surprise to me. It's my most popular one over on FFN, which honestly doesn't make any sense since I've got works up that are loads better, but who am I to disagree with the fans? I actually wasn't going to put this up on AO3 at first, but then I figured, hey, if people over on FFN loved it so much, people over on AO3 might like it a bit. So. Have a rare multi-chapter fic. This fic is 6 chapters long. It's a rare multi-chapter story that you will get from me, since I usually write one-shots. This is an eighth year fic. Ron and Hermione basically don't show up. My reasoning is they wanted the time to shag like bunnies. The title doesn't really make much sense to me anymore since there's no *making* that actually happens, but whatever. Happy reading! :)

Harry was flaming. He had first learned about his sexuality after the war, in eighth year. Many seventh year students had returned to Hogwarts to finish their schooling, though of the Golden Trio, only Harry went back. Ron and Hermione said the place held too many memories; Harry thought they just wanted some space to shag like rabbits. Of course, upon returning, Harry and Ginny had immediately gotten back together, and their hormones had run rampant. But when the sight of Ginny spread wantonly across Harry's bed, ready to lose her virginity, failed to turn Harry on, he knew something was wrong.

Of course, he wasn't quite sure, so he just excused himself by saying sorry, the day had been stressful and he wasn't really feeling it. But the next day, he sought out Michael Corner, who was openly bi, and forcefully snogged him. When the awkward kiss left Harry more breathless than any kiss with Ginny ever had, he knew, without a doubt, that he played Seeker for the other team.

Ginny, ever the supporting friend, had been very understanding when Harry told her. She said she had suspected it for a while, but had wanted Harry to figure it out himself so she could selfishly take advantage of him for a little while longer. Harry, who had feared her wrath and, consequently, her infamous Bat-Bogeys, was quite relieved.

The weeks after were quite hectic. Some way or another, the news of Harry's sexuality spread through the school like wildfire. In this period, there were three main types of people, besides Harry's closest friends: 1) Those who insulted him ("I always knew you were a ponce!" Parkinson jeered. "You're too feminine to be straight!"), 2) Those who admired his courage ("I'd never be able to be in the spotlight so much, Harry!" some third year had said."), and 3) Those who really just didn't give a damn.

Of course, once Harry admitted to himself he liked guys, some of his repressed and pent up feelings had broken loose, feelings he had succeeded in ignoring for years. Feelings for that stupid, blonde, foul, pratty, overbearing, arrogant, aristocratic, tall, muscled, handsome _git_ , Draco Malfoy. Harry had always been quite passionate towards the Slytherin, but he had grown adept at turning that passion into something negative. But now that he was free to act on his passion, and now that he had the choice, he wondered if maybe it wasn't time to start turning it to something more positive.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry confided in Ginny. She was the perfect choice. The two had remained good friends after the breakup, and she was comfortably dating Dean Thomas again. And Harry knew that she harbored her own little crush on Malfoy. So he had dug up his "Gryffindor courage" and confessed to her.

The moment he spilled the beans, Harry knew he had made the worst decision he had ever made in his life. Ginny had constantly made fun of him and tried to get him to ask Malfoy out. She always threw them into embarrassing situations, which left Harry floundering for words before meekly apologizing and storming off to find Ginny. But he could never stay angry at her for too long, and soon enough, he was back to whining about his problems to her. And so the cycle continued.

Today was no different. "You're drooling," Ginny said matter-of-factly as she buttered her toast.

Harry instinctively wiped his mouth and turned his gaze away from the dashing blonde. "Am not," he grumbled, spooning a bite of oatmeal into his mouth.

"Figure of speech, darling," Ginny laughed. "You really need to do something about your little crush, though," she said seriously. "It's killing your life."

Harry sighed. "I know, Ginny. I know."

* * *

Draco wasn't gay. No, of course he wasn't. He simply…liked sex with men. That's it. Besides, having sex with me often bent them to his will. Draco wasn't averse to using sex as a tool, not with such a gorgeous body. If he could sex to gather favors and place people in his debt, then why not use it?

Never mind that most of his encounters were one-offs and he would never see them again.

But no matter what, he wasn't gay. Malfoys were not gay. Hell,  _purebloods_  were not gay. And Draco was both a Malfoy and a pureblood. Add to that, he already had his future planned out. He was going to marry Astoria Greengrass, move to Paris, have two chil—

Oh, who was he kidding? Draco Malfoy was  _very_  gay.

He had always known, really. Ever since he knew what sex was. Maybe the fact that Blaise Zabini had starred in many of his early sexual fantasies had clued him in. Or perhaps he figured it out when kissing Pansy didn't arouse him at all. Either way, he was gay, and he tried not to delude himself into thinking otherwise. At least, not after he first figured it out, but he had never really been good at lying to himself.

Third and fourth years had been spent exploring his sexuality. He had had many conquests, most of them one-offs. He hadn't had full-on sex until the middle of fourth year, though, and the experience had been so painful he never wanted to bottom again. Fifth year he had spent shagging Blaise Zabini, and they had become pretty steady, but Blaise broke it off over the summer for some other guy he had taken a fancy to. Sixth and seventh years had been spent serving the Daft Lord and trying to get his family back into Moldymorts' good books.

So it wasn't until eighth year had rolled about that Draco was actually able to think about getting another partner. For some inexplicable reason, his thoughts landed on Harry Potter. But as he thought about it, he realized it was only logical. After all, the two were more alike than anyone could begin to guess. They had both been young adolescents with too much responsibility thrust onto their shoulders. And he realized that the Chosen One was steadily rising to meet his incredibly high standards. Handsome? Check. Muscular? Check. Smart? Not Granger-smart, but adequately so. Check. Enjoys Quidditch? Check. Isn't prejudiced against Draco? Well, the man had testified at Draco's trial and kept him and his mum out of Azkaban, so he assumed so. Check. Not manipulative? Check. Still a little sneaky? Check. Can put up with Draco? Well, he'd just have to find out, wouldn't he?

Draco wondered why he had even thought of Potter in the first place. Was he really that desperate, or was it something else? He didn't think it was desperation; he knew what desperation felt like, having experienced it on the Astronomy Tower in sixth year, and this felt nothing like that. So he had to assume it was something else. Maybe it was the bragging rights? The exclusive ability to say he was shagging the Golden Boy? Draco didn't know. But one thing was for sure.

The Boy Who Lived Twice was going to belong to Draco.


	2. Chapter 2

"Look at him!" Harry exclaimed. "Just look at him! Throwing himself all over Parkinson like that! No self-respecting male, especially not a  _Malfoy_ , practically rapes another person in which he has no romantic interest! IT goes against the unwritten-but-somehow-known-rules of men! In accordance with these rules, Malfoy and Parkinson  _have_  to be together! There's no other way around it!" Harry groaned and fell forward, forehead banging against the table. He ignored the stares he was sure to be getting from the other students. "There is also no way in hell that he would ever go out with me," he mumbled into the woodwork.

Ginny clicked her tongue sympathetically. "It's alright, Harry. Any man would be gay for you, I promise."

"Even Malfoy?" Harry asked, bringing his head away from the table, eyes wide. He looked like a kicked puppy.

Ginny nodded. "Even Malfoy," she confirmed. Harry kissed her cheek and smiled at her slightly before going back to his work.

Consequently, he missed the smirk Ginny sent over his head in Malfoy's direction some time later.

* * *

Draco was staring, mouth agape in horror, at Potter. "He kissed her!" he finally said. "He just kissed the She-Weasel's cheek!"

"Draco darling, you're both staring  _and_ gaping," Pansy said casually. Draco snapped his mouth shut and shot a discreet glare at her.

"It doesn't change the fact that he kissed her.  _Of course_ Potter is straight and dating the Weaselette. Why would my luck be any better?" he cried dramatically, albeit very softly, trying not to incite the ire of the infamous Madam Pince.

Greg looked at him curiously. "You mean you haven't heard? Wow, Draco. You can be so thick sometimes. Potter is g—ow!" He rubbed his toe and glared at Pansy. "What was that for?"

"What he  _means_  to say," Pansy said sweetly, "is that Potter is  _ga-ga_  over her."

Draco shuddered. "Please don't ever use the word 'ga-ga' in my presence  _ever_  again."

Greg was still glaring at Pnasy. "Why didn't you let me tell him Potter was g—"

Pansy clapped a hand over his mouth and hissed, "Shut up! You're going to ruin all of my yet-to-be-made carefully constructed plans!"

Draco, thankfully, missed this exchange, turning instead to stare at Potter. After a while, he returned to his work.

He, too, missed the smirk Pansy sent in Potter's direction the moment he wasn't paying her any more attention.

* * *

"Let's get one thing straight," Ginny said. "I hate you. But for the sake of our former boyfriends—"

"The feeling is mutual, Weasel. And we were friends with benefits," Parkinson broke in.

Ginny felt the slightest worm of discomfort before she pushed it aside. This had to be done, for Harry's sake. "Ahem. Yes, the sake of that as well. The point is, we need to cooperate for them. This is Operation: Hot Sexy Manlove! OHSM for short. How are we doing this?"

Parkinson leaned back in her chair, legs crossed, looking at her nails, the very picture of smug disinterest. "We start with the obvious. Clichéd, yes, but it works. First, we take their wands…."

* * *

"Harry, there's a can of broom polish in that closet that I can't quite reach," Ginny told him, eyes innocent and wide. "Can you get it for me please?"

harry sighed. Ginny knew he was a sucker for that face, with her little  _It would mean the world to me_  look and everything. "Yes, I'll get it for you. Where is it?" he asked as he walked into the closet. Suddenly, he heard the door shut, and he whirled around. "What are you doing?" he asked, a tinge of fear coloring his voice. There was a click! and Harry rushed to the door. Sure enough, it was locked. "Ginny?" He reached for his wand, only to realize it wasn't there. "Ginny, when and why  _did you take my wand?_ " he asked, a little dangerously.

Ginny remained unperturbed. "Sorry, Harry. I had to. You'll understand, won't you?" she said sweetly, but she didn't sound at all sorry. "Oh, Malfoy!" she said suddenly. "Hi!"

"Pansy told me to meet her here at this time. Why are you here in her stead?" came Malfoy's slightly suspicious voice.

"Oh, she's in the closet, fetching something," Ginny lied easily. "She told me to send you in when you showed up."

Harry felt his stomach drop. "Oh no. Oh  _shit_  no. MALFOY!" he yelled. "DON'T LISTEN TO HER! IT'S A TRAP! DON'T COME IN!" But Ginny must have  _Silencio_ 'd the door or something, because it was evident Malfoy couldn't hear him.

How did Harry know? Because not two seconds later, Malfoy entered the closet.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Harry had lunged towards the door, it had already shut and been locked. "Ginny! I'm going to kill you! I'm going to strangle you with my bare hands!" he yelled at the door, which had no doubt been subjected to a powerful Silencing Charm. "Better yet, I'll tell Ron! I'll owl him and 'Mione and tell them, and they can kill you with me! Why, Ginny? Why?" His little rant finished, he turned around and, pressing his back to the wood, slid down until he hit the floor. He looked up to see Malfoy looking on in amusement.

"A bit melodramatic, aren't we, Potter?" he said. "I know we're supposed to be rivals and all, but I'm not  _that_  bad. Quite honestly, several women have told me I'm easy on the eyes." He pretended to felx his bicep and smirked. "But my beauty aside, is there touble in paradise? Yelling death threats at your fiancee-to-be isn't something a normal boyfriend does. Is there something you'd like to tell me, Potter?"

"Oh, sod off, Malfoy," Harry said tiredly. "Besides, how do you  _not_  know? Ginny and I broke up ages ago!"

"Really? God save us all! The Savior has lost his love! However shall we survive?" Malfoy moaned dramatically. Then he calmed down. "Although, I must admit I'm intrigued. Why wouldn't she want to be with you? After all, you two were supposed to be in love, I'm told."

Harry pretended to think. "You know, now that I think about it, my  _sexuality_  may have played a part of it," he said sarcastically.

Immediately, Malfoy became serious. "You're…gay?"

Harry nodded exaggeratedly, smiling as if he was explaining this to a young child. "Good job, Malfoy! Give the man a prize! I came out to the entire bloody school a month ago! How did you not hear? But then, purebloods frown on homosexuality, don't they? What with the whole marriage-to-provide-an-heir thing. Speaking of which, who's  _your_  "breeding partner," Malfoy? Parkinson? One of the Greengrasses? Some other Slytherin bint I don't know?"

Malfoy looked at him oddly. " I actually won't have any biological children. After all, I doubt men can get pregnant, and I don't quite fancy using some woman as a surrogate mother."

Harry's eyes widened as he processed Malfoy's words. "You're gay, too?"

Malfoy just looked at him disdainfully, one eyebrow raised.

Harry coughed quietly. "Right. Well then." An awkward silence settled over them, which Harry spent lost in thought.

Draco Malfoy was gay. He was available. The man Harry loved might possibly (read: in an alternate universe) go out with him. And it really was love, Harry admitted to himself. Just as it had been extreme before, absolute and unadulterated hatred, so it was extreme now, complete and totally love. Harry wondered if anything in his life could just be normal for once.

But the extremity of the love made it that much worse when Harry realized that even if he and Draco had a relationship, it would most likely be as nothing more than fuck buddies. Because really, why would Draco want him for anything other than a quick shag?

And Harry realized, suddenly, that even if that was the most he would ever get from Draco, he would gladly accept it, even if it broke his heart to share the blonde. The realization burned through him, showing him the extent of his love.

Harry groaned internally. He was so pathetic.

* * *

Draco leaned against the wall, taking in this vital piece of information he had just learned. Harry Ptter, Draco's conquest-to-be, was gay. Which meant Draco had a chance. Which meant that he could possibly have bragging rights forever.

But then he hit a snag, a snag that he had never seen before. A snag that could burn all his plans to the ground. That snag was this: Draco was a Death Eater who had attempted to kill Dumbledore. Why would Potter want anything to do with Draco? It would sully the Golden Boy's image!

Well, that just made it  _harder_  to get Potter, not  _impossible_. And Draco did love a challenge. He'd just have to show Potter he'd really changed. And if was going to do that, he'd have to start a little earlier than planned.

"Potter," he said suddenly, quite seriously. "I think we can both agree that we both owe each other our lives several times over. In light of this, I feel it is in the best interest of everybody if we at least start to act civil to each other. I realize friendship is a far reach, but we shouldn't hold childish grudges any longer, and either way, civility is quite easy to achieve. Truce?" He held out his hand.

Potter looked at it for a few seconds. Finally though, he shook it. "You know, Malfoy, for once I think you're right. Truce."

"As such," Draco continued. "I think we can graduate from last names. Is that okay, Harry?" For a moment, he wondered if he was being too bold. But Harry's next words shattered his uncertainty.

"Draco," Pot-Harry said, as if he were trying the name out. He appeared to like it. "It'll take some time getting used to, but that's okay."

Draco smiled to himself. Progress was being made, and quite steadily, too.

* * *

When Ginny finally opened the door, she found Harry and Malfoy sitting in silence. They jumped slightly when the light hit them, but quickly got up and walked out.

"Draco," Harry said cordially.

"Harry," Malfoy replied, in the same tone, and both walked off in opposite directions.

 _Well,_  thought Ginny.  _I guess the fact that they've gone to a first-name basis without killing each other is a good thing._  It wasn't the hot, sexy, man-love she and Parkinson had envisioned, but it was progress. But progress couldn't go fast enough, and she felt it was time to give them another nudge.

* * *

"Okay," said Ginny, rubbing her hands together. "We have now entered OHMS Stage 2. They've gotten farther along, but they're still painfully behind. In other words, they need help. Now what?"

"Another broom closet, maybe?" Parkinson suggested.

But Ginny shook her head. "We can't, Harry doesn't quite trust me right now. No, this'll have to be a sneak attack. Like a ninja operation or something."

Parkinson took a second to glare at Ginny disdainfully for her Muggle words, but brought herself back to the matter in hand quickly. "If that's the case, this is what we'll do," she said, and laid down her plan. The two girls tweaked it until it was perfect, and Ginny sat back in satisfaction.

"You may be a bint, Parkinson, but you're quite smart," she said appreciatively.

"And you as well, Weasel," Parkinson replied coolly.

In that moment, another small truce was born.

* * *

When Draco woke up, he could immediately tell something was wrong. There was too much light, the bed was too soft,  _something_. And when he opened his eyes, he saw he was right. Somehow, he had been transferred from the Slytherin dorms to a bedroom fit for a king. He rolled over to find the edge of the giant bed, but stopped when he collided into something.

Slowly, Draco's eyes roamed over the prone form of Harry Potter.

"Dammit," he swore. "Not again."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: The brief lime-ish thing that is the reason for the M rating on this fic occurs in this chapter. So just a heads-up for that.

Harry woke up to find Draco Malfoy staring at him. His first reaction was to let out a short cry ad flinch back. But when he did that, he hit his head on the headboard and yanked it forward again, rubbing at the knot that had formed. He glared balefully at the unrepentant blonde. But he found it hard to be angry with such a beautiful man. A ray of sunlight shone on him, highlighting his every feature. His shirt was almost sinfully tight, hugging his chest, and although Harry couldn't see Draco's pants, he was sure they would've made him drool.

"What the hell, Draco?" he asked to hide his admiration. Draco sighed.

"I woke up here, next to you, about 30 minutes ago. I don't know where we are, or how we got here. I only assume that we're meant to be here for some time. This is like a full house, with a kitchen and den and bathroom and everything. I've already showered, so the bathroom is all yours. I'll go make us some breakfast." Saying this, he got up and walked off.

After a few minutes, Harry got up, too. He stumbled to a door that he assumed led to the bathroom. To his relief, he found he was right. When he finally stumbled into the shower and turned on the water, his thoughts returned to Draco. Unable to stand it any longer, he dropped his hand to his cock and began to move it back and forth. He imagined Draco joining him in the shower, kissing him passionately, slicking up Harry's cock with soap, pressing against the wall, legs spread, open for Harry. And then Harry would enter Draco, and thrust hard, hitting  _that spot_  each time, and Draco would scream Harry's name as he came, clenching around Harry's cock and milking Harry's orgasm from him.

Back outside his fantasy, Harry exploded, too fast, too soon, into his hand. "Oh god, Draco," he moaned as he came.

It took two more good wanks for Harry to be fully sated. When he was done, he wuickly cleaned up, turned the water off, reached out for his towel, wrapped it precariously low around his hips, and stepped out.

Straight into the view of Draco.

* * *

Draco cast a Warming Charm on the food. What was taking Harry so long? Was he even still awake? Draco went to check.

When he reached the bedroom, there was no one in the bed. So Harry was in the shower, then. Draco ambled to the door and quietly opened it.

Just in time to hear Harry moan wantonly, "Draco, more!"

It wasn't hard to figure out what he was doing.

Draco stayed there, frozen, as Harry finished up his shower, processing this new information. Harry wanted him.  _Him_. Draco Malfoy! Of course, Draco knew Harry was gay, and vice versa. They had come out—kind of—to each other in a broom closet, for Merlin's sake! (Draco paused a second to laugh at the irony of coming out of the closet—in a closet.) But never, not even in his wildest dreams, had Draco imagined that Harry would be gay for  _him_.

The water stopped, pulling Draco out of his thoughts. A tan hand appeared and yanked a towel inside, and Draco shut his mouth with a fairly audible click. He immediately opened the door and shut it behind him, although still rather softly. He turned around, just in time to see Harry step out of the shower.

He looked like a sex god, to put it lightly. The towel was slung low about his hips, a thin trail of hair marking a path from Harry's navel to below the towel. Droplets of water glistened on his tan skin, occasionally riding a few inches lower, gathering more drops as they passed. For some reason, Draco had the unfathomable urge to lick the water off of Harry's skin. His hair was soaked and pressed close to his head for once, though still as messy as if he had been shagged. His eyes had grown wide when he saw Draco, and those full lips had parted slightly, lending an oddly vulnerable look to his face, on that made Draco melt inside.

But as soon as Draco saw the vulnerability, it was gone, replaced with a carefully schooled look of indifference. "How long have you been here?" Harry asked nonchalantly.

"Ah," Draco said, stalling for time so he could gather his wits about him. "Um. Just a few seconds. I was coming to remind you that breakfast was ready, and to see what was taking you so long." He didn't know what had prompted him to lie, but he was glad. He just knew that telling the truth would get him into a load of trouble, and he'd had enough trouble to last him a lifetime.

Harry finally relaxed. He grinned crookedly. "Alright. I'll be out in a bit."

Draco nodded stiffly and left the room. The moment he shut the bedroom door, he collapsed against it and closed his eyes.

What the hell was he going to do?


	5. Chapter 5

That night, as the "house" grew colder, Draco lit the fireplace. He poured two glasses of wine, turned the lights down, and put on some Celestina Warbeck, albeit on a very quiet volume. She set the mood perfectly, but she wasn't exactly…. how do you say? Good. But terrible music aside, he refused to think of the atmosphere as "romantic," because he didn't do romantic. Malfoys in general did not do romantic. Romantic was for weaklings, people who needed help snaring the person they wanted. Draco didn't need help. He was strong. He didn't need  _romantic_. Did he?

When Harry walked in, he looked questioningly at Draco. "This is how I relax," Draco said by way of explanation. "And I really need to relax tonight. I thought you might enjoy it too." Harry just shrugged, grabbed his wine, and climbed onto the couch. Draco followed his example, settling on the other end of the couch. They sat in companionable silence, broken only once when Harry asked incredulously, "Celestina Warbeck?"

"Mother liked her," Draco replied, a tad defensively. Thankfully, Harry accepted the answer.

Eventually, though, the fire ceased to effectively combat the cold. Harry placed his wine on a side table and stood up. "I'm going to go find a blanket. Do you want one as well?" he asked. Draco considered for a second, then nodded.

Harry returned a few minutes later with a soft, fluffy blanket. He looked slightly apologetic. "I could only find one," he said. He held the blanket out towards Draco. "Here, you take it. I went through a lot worse during the war; I can handle feeling a little cold." He smiled slightly, as thought forgiving Draco for his part in that terrible period.

Draco took the blanket and patted the seat next to him. "Don't be stupid. The war is over. We can share." Gratefully, Harry clambered next to Draco and cuddled—there was really no other word to describe what Harry was doing—into Draco's side. When he settled down, Draco draped the blanket over them both. They sat in silence once more, though this time it was a little more awkward.

Draco soon saw that the wine had almost completely vanished. He turned to ask Harry if he wanted more, only to find Harry's lips barely two inches from his own.

Time stood still.

Draco searched Harry's eyes for something,  _anything_ , that gave him permission to lean forward and kiss him. He saw a mix of fear, anticipation, nervousness, and…impatience? Impatience for Draco to kiss him? And still Draco hesitated, not wanting to take advantage of the innocent brunette.

But then Harry seemed to make a decision, and leaned forward to press his lips against Draco's.

And then, oh dear sweet Merlin, Draco was kissing him back and Harry's lips were so firm and soft and smooth and Draco couldn't get enough of his taste, he tasted like pure _manliness_  embodied, and then the scent hit him, the scent of woods and fresh air and aftershave and just a  _hint_  of citrus, and Draco just couldn't get enough of this…this…this absolute  _god_!

All too soon, they broke apart to breathe. Draco's stomach dropped when he saw the deer-in-the-headlights look on Harry's face. Self-loathing filled him at having taken advantage of Harry, even though the rational part of his brain kept telling him that Harry had initiated the kiss. Draco should've stopped him, not given him wine, not spent time looking into his eyes, _something_. But he hadn't, and now he had only himself to blame. He passed a hand over his face and moaned, "Oh dear Salazar, what have I done?"

He looked over to see that Harry had stood up. "I'm going to bed," Harry said in an oddly constricted voice. He immediately turned around and nearly sprinted out of the room.

Draco thumped his head back against the couch. "What have I done?" he asked again to the empty room.

* * *

The next few days were spent in an awkward tension. Draco locked himself in the library, coming out only to eat. He had found an adjoining bathroom which he used, and the chairs could easily be Transfigured into beds. He rarely saw Harry, and when he did, their brief exchanges were limited to awkward nods and tense little half-smiles.

And then, one day, something odd happened. Draco had taken a liking to Muggle fiction books, as their interpretations of magic amused him to no end. He was currently reading the _Ranger's Apprentice_  series, but he couldn't find the last book. He tried Accio-ing it, but nothing flew to his outstretched hand. Sadly, Draco picked up another book and headed to his seat. He had really wanted to know the truth about Will's parents!

When he reached his seat, though, there was a book on the cushion, which was odd. Draco was sure he hadn't left a book on the seat when he got up. He picked it up and turned it over to see the title.

It was the book he had wanted.

Draco suddenly had an idea of where they were. To confirm it, he walked to an empty stretch of wall and closed his eyes. "I need a kitchen attached to this room," he said quietly. When he opened his eyes, a door had appeared. When he opened it, he found it was indeed a kitchen.

The excitement of his discovery overcame the awkwardness he had held towards Harry. He immediately ran out of the library and searched for Harry, eventually finding him in the bedroom.

"I know where we are," Draco said triumphantly, breathing slightly heavier than normal. "We're in the Room of Requirement."


	6. Chapter 6

Harry dropped the book he was reading. "What?" he asked, not quite believing what Draco had said.

"We're in the Room of Requirement!" Draco repeated.

Harry was flooded with excitement and relief. "Then there must be an exit! You can't put us in a room without giving us a way to get out!"

"There isn't, I've already checked," Draco said. Harry's smile fell, only to be replaced by a thoughtful expression.

"There has to be a way out," he repeated. "Maybe it's hidden? That's probably it. And in order to find it, we have to do something, or fulfill some conditions. I wonder what those conditions are?"

"The best way to figure that out, Harry, would be to analyze the mindsets of whoever locked us in here in the first place," Draco pointed out. "And that's something that we don't know."

"Yes, but we can conjecture who would  _want_  to lock us in here, and narrow down the list," Harry retorted. "So who would want to lock us in a room, together? From the looks of it, our captors think we're going to stay here for a while. Why would we be stuck together for a long time? What's the motive behind our kidnapping? Who would want to kidnap us _together_?"

"Well, Pansy and the She-Weasel come to mind," Draco said dryly.

"Her name is Ginny, thank you," Harry said reproachfully. "But you have a point. They do seem to want to keep us together for some reason. Why—?" Suddenly, everything became clear as day. Harry's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in anger. "That scheming little bitch! I'll kill her for this!"

"What?" Draco asked curiously.

Harry sighed. "Nothing. It's nothing." He picked up his book and again and began flipping through it, trying to find his page.

Draco cleared his throat a minute later. "Well… Listen, we should talk."

Harry froze as a feeling of dread washed over him. This was about their kiss, he just knew it was! Draco was going to tell him he had made a mistake, that he couldn't be with Harry, that he was seeing someone else. And Harry's heart, which Harry had worked so hard to protect and had been protecting ever since that first night, would finally break. But despite all that… Was he a Gryffindor or wasn't he? "Yeah?" he said, gathering all his courage about him.

Draco cleared his throat and looked away uncomfortably. "About that night," he began quietly, confirming Harry's suspicions. "I didn't mean for it to go that far. But it did, and I have to let you know, it meant something to me. It meant a lot, actually, even if it didn't to you. And when you ran away, I thought I would die. Harry James Potter, I love you. I don't know how or why or even when it happened, but that doesn't make it any less true. I want that night to be more than just a one-off. I want  _us_  to be more than just a one-off. I want us to be  _real_. I'll understand if you don't, but my heart will always belong to you." He coughed awkwardly. "I also want you to know that's the sappiest I will ever get," he said in his trademark Malfoy drawl, slightly killing the mood.

"Alright," Harry whispered. "I understand. It's okay, I'll be—Wait, what?"

Draco scowled. "I will not repeat myself. I will say this only once more: I love you." The last three words were said very slowly, as if explaining something to a small child.

Harry felt as though time had stopped. "You love me," he marveled. "You love me!"

Draco snorted, but gave Harry a small smile. "Yes, I do. Prat."

Harry launched himself at Draco, hugging him tightly. "I love you too," he mumbled into Draco's shoulder. "I didn't know for sure, because you looked like you had swallowed a rat, and I was so worried that maybe you were going to tell me that you didn't want anything to do with me, and I was so scared and sad and my heart felt like it was going to break, but then you didn't do any of that and told me you loved me back, and I'm so happy now, and I'm sorry, I'm babbling, and I'll stop now, but I love you so—mpf!"

"It's okay, you git," Draco whispered into Harry's mouth, breaking the kiss he had pulled the brunette into.

Harry couldn't help but pull Draco into another embrace. Out of the corner of one eye, he saw something appear. Turning to see it better, he realized it was a door. There was a giant "exit" sign next to it. "Draco, the exit just appeared," he said reluctantly, not really wanting to leave.

Draco laughed. "Let's stay for a while. I want to explore this newfound love of ours."

And that was perfectly fine with Harry.

**FIN**


End file.
